Consequences of the Throne
by Rogue Riley 666
Summary: Darkness. Defeat. The God of Mischief has finally been forced to face judgement. Will it be his breaking point, or will he find his redemption among the edges of the Universe itself? Jane Foster. His target will come to him, and his vengeance will be a pleasure that will block out the pain he had been cursed with. Lokane
1. Prologue: In Darkness Becomes

_Greetings! I've had this crazy idea, so I thought I would post it. This consists of a few chapters. Initially I wanted to make it longer, but I am not sure the sort of response that will be received for the content yet._

This fic is based around the Thor The Dark World universe and setting, though things in the beginning will be different than the canon storyline. This is a strong Lokane fic, and will be portrayed with a very dark context. I am putting twists on the mythology in here too, so expect this to be far from sunshine and rainbows. Any relationship development between Loki and Jane will not be fast or easy (depending on how long this turns out to be). _This fic was written with darkness in mind, and is rated M for a reason. Initially, this was intended to be a cross-over with another one of my favourite universes, but at this point I am not so certain I want to follow through with it. I may just leave this fic as a Marvel Universe only. _

My characterizations in this fic are meant to be as canon as possible, but do keep in mind I like to add my own taste of the character when I write them.

_If you wish this to be something longer, I have no problems writing more, though I do tend to update slowly (to have longer chapters and better writing), and I would like input from everyone. As a writer, I love to bounce ideas off of people, so feel free to suggest things. Who knows!? I may or may not incorporate them into this story!_

_Also, I do not yet have a beta for this story, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes I may have missed._

_Thank you so much for your consideration! I hope you enjoy!_

_~Aislinn_

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters belonging to the Marvel Universe, no matter what terrible tortures and liberties I take with their characters. I do not write this fic for profit or gain, and merely for my own entertainment.**

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**Prologue: In Darkness Becomes**

Dark. Darkness. A never-ending sea of black surrounded him. The prison's empty, dark silence was nearly too much for him to be allowed any measure of comfort. He could see nothing, nothing but endless black; a terrifying nothingness. His magic had been stripped from him, armour and clothing degraded into rags that hung loosely on his thinning body. He could survive ages without food; there was no need for anyone to visit him for feed. The solitude was blinding, more so than the darkness itself. _Solitude_…an Eternity _alone_. There was no time here in this place...only forever.

Sometimes, if he just sat there staring into the empty space, he thought he could hear voices whispering to him, saying indiscernible things into his ear. Occasionally he would reach a hand up, lost, hoping to brush up against whoever could possibly be there.

But, maybe he was just going insane. The stories of old told of men who lost their minds in the darkness and never found their way out. This could very well be happening to him.

He knew, he understood that there would be consequences following his actions on both, Asgard and Midgard, but he did not anticipate this level of "banishment" forced upon him by the All-Father. He was home, on Asgard, but entirely alone, left to rot in eternal solitude. He could scream or talk all he wanted, but there would be no one to hear him, no one to see him, no one to love him. At least Thor, during his banishment had been able to interact with people other than himself, a comfort other than the solitary darkness, whether they be mortal or immortal or not. Thor had had a chance to "redeem" himself, to fix himself and eventually become able to return home to the comfort and love of his parents' and friends' arms.

Loki did not. He was not offered the chance to become someone 'better' than he was, or learn from his mistakes. No. Apparently there was a difference between the ways the two sons were expected to 'learn' from their past indulgences. The All-Father had even said to him during trials, that Thor had merely acted out of rash anger and impulse, and old habit that Thor had always possessed. This pardoned him. However, when he, Loki, the son of Laufey, had carefully thought out his plans (all with good intentions on his end), the crimes were too atrocious to forgive in the all-seeing eyes of the All-Father. They were _petty_ and _disgraceful_.

Could it be because he was not _born_ of Asgardian blood? Could it be because he was the _second_ son, destined to forever walk and mingle among the shadows of his brightly-glowing, to-be-king older brother? How the fates must _loathe_ him.

It was absurd, All of it, and quite frankly Loki hoped that _someone_ would come to realize that. He desperately grasped onto the possibility that someone would hear his cries for something greater than what he already was.

At least, he could _try_ to fool himself into something as ridiculous and dangerous as _hope_. In reality, Loki knew he could never hope for something more than this prison, this terrible oubliette deep beneath the bowels of Asgard. No one would come for him, and eventually, no one would remember him.

Down here, it was easy to drive oneself mad. If he was not careful, then he would also succumb to the insanity so many before him had surrendered to. The Silvertongue could not afford that, not if he ever intended to get out of this literally forgotten Hell. Execution would have suited him better, even though he was not so keen on dying.

With a raspy sigh, Loki kicked his legs out in front of him, resting them stretched on the cold ground. He needed to steer his thoughts away from the unpleasant present, and begin to plan for the future. What was he going to do? How was he going to get out of this place? He had tried walking around, stumbling more often than not, but no matter how long or which way he walked (or thought he did), he could find no wall, no corner and no door. It was as though he were trapped in an endless, open pit of despair.

He would show them. He would make them pay for doing this to him.

And he would start with Thor's precious, mortal _woman_. And then, only _then_, he would…then he would….

Loki sighed again, his shoulders heaving with a large intake of breath. He could feel the weight of his long, disheveled hair falling over his shoulders as they fell. What use was it, this vengeance? If he could not even get free of this place then there would be no such vengeance to be hand in the end. What purpose would it serve, after all was said and done?

A slight, rough scoff echoed in the darkness. This was to be his life now. He was born in darkness, lived in darkness, and would forever be confined until he died in darkness. It was now, that Loki Laufeyson was grateful that they were not immortal, and could in fact, die.

For when it came for him at last, he would welcome it.

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Jane sat up, yawning as she stretched her arms, warm covers falling down to her hips to expose her light blue, tank top night shirt. She had slept quite unsoundly through the night, tossing and turning during a nightmare she could no longer recall. Lately, it had been much like this. She would fall asleep, and then awaken screaming from some sort of dreadful dream. She would be shivering and shuddering, drenched in a thick sheen of sweat that pooled into her quilted comforter.

She was thankful she could not recall them.

With a deep sigh, Jane turned her head to look out the window, flipping her hair over her shoulder with a shake of her head. The sunlight was only barely peeking through over the horizon, which meant that once again she beat her alarm clock to the day. Really, she was unsure if she could continue waking up so early after fighting to try to sleep; the sleep deprivation was tempting her to temporarily cease her work until her eyes no longer burned and it was safe for her to be anywhere without passing out. Granted, she didn't have to drive anywhere since Tony Stark had arranged a personal 'cab' for her.

Of course, _his _version of 'cab' was slightly different than _her_ version of 'cab'….

Another sigh. And another. This routine was getting old. She really wanted adventure back in her life again, she wanted to see the stars come to life before her very eyes, to see her research once again land its feet on her planet and sweep her away to…..

Where?

Asgard?

Pft. As if _that_ would ever happen. Thor had specifically told her that she was not ready to embark to Asgard, especially not now that the Bifrost was totally destroyed.

Jane could not quite help the slight bitterness that entered her thoughts, and she mentally kicked herself for being so selfish.

Thor only wanted to protect her, so why was she being so stubbornly angry? Why could she not just nod and smile and say "thank you" and just move along with it? Wasn't she supposed to be in love with the guy? The God of Thunder?

"Silly girl…tricks are for kids…"* And for the moment, her heart weighed heavily in her chest. Of course she still loved Thor, and that was the problem. She had known him only for a few days, and since the last time she saw him, she wondered if she was in love with _him_ or the _idea_ of him…the fact that he was so closely tied in to her research and the first breakthrough she had had on her projects. Her first _real_ breakthrough.

Two legs were haphazardly thrown over the edge of the bed, and Jane hopped off the mattress with squared shoulders and a newly stubborn demeanor.

She had her reasons for exploring the stars and the skies. She always felt drawn to it, ever since she was a little girl. They held comfort and meaning…they held billions of years of history and truth and stories that were just waiting to be unlocked. There was something about somewhere up there that she had her heart set on. Was it Asgard? Jane really did not know. She just knew that she needed to get up there somehow. It was as though something was calling out to her, crying for her attention.

And she fully intended to answer it.

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With steel, blue eyes fixated intently on the floor, he watched as the beautiful and intricate swirls moved beneath his face. He was pacing, nervous about the upcoming coronation.

If he were being true to himself, he would have said that it hardly mattered anymore that he was going to be King, that Asgard was soon to be passed down to him by the All-Father. Before everything that had happened, he would have easily and quickly jumped at the chance to be what he was born to be. Now though, with the loss and imprisonment of his brother, Thor was having difficulties coming to terms with being King. He would not be alone, he knew that, but having the Warriors Three and Sif by his side was much different than having his brother at his side…The empty space felt _perverted_.

He did not want to do this without him, but he knew that he must. Loki would never return to being his awkward, mischievous little brother. Not anymore. No, he was far too gone for that, sucked deep into madness and hatred caused by the ones he loved and trusted above all others. It was the ultimate form of dishonour, and it was not dishonour on Loki's part.

Thor knew that it was their father whom had created this bubbling darkness inside Loki's heart. He had carefully preened the two of them, training them both to be Kings, but surrendering the throne solely to Thor in the end. It was true that he _was_ the oldest, and the eldest was the first in line, but Thor could also recognize the differences in how they were both treated as children.

Odin had spent a much greater amount of time crafting and teaching Thor, while Loki spent his time with their mother. Odin had neglected to tell Loki the truth all these years about who and what he was, not only severing the thin line of trust carefully built between them, but also disconnecting all ties of kinship Loki had had with his adopted family.

To Thor, it was not _blood _that which held meaning, but _heart_. The two of them grew up together, fought together and laughed together. They slept and ate together and even bled for each other. It meant nothing to Thor that Loki was not of the same womb.

It would never mean more than what they shared together.

And now that was all gone...wasting away in a black pit far far beneath the city of Asgard. It was a terrible burden to bear, knowing that person he loved must now suffer for eternity as declared by their father.

_Loki…what now?_

"You will sooner create a crater than you shall save what little is left of your brother."

The feminine voice echoed in Asgard's throne room, the empty space carrying the sound with a heavy pressure.

Thor stopped, turning halfway to watch a shadow emerge from behind a tall pillar. It was Sif, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders and she was frowning, her brows furrowed with concern.

"Thor…"

"Don't," he interrupted, his voice firm, "I do not want to hear such words from you too. My father has already placed a burden upon my shoulders." There was a hint of anguish, and he was certain that Sif could hear it.

She said nothing, and instead pressed her lips together tightly and walked closer until she was upon him. She reached a gentle hand out, placing it upon his shoulder carefully.

"I won't. But, I cannot bear to see _this_."

"And what is _this_, Sif?" He shot back, his tempter starting to get the better of him, "Loki is my _brother-_"

"He was adopted! Thor! _Listen_ to yourself! You are letting this consume you! Loki _never_ could be trusted, and he _always _envied you-"

"You did not see him, Sif. You heard not his sincerity the day I was supposed to be King."

There was an almost deafening silence as Sif stared back at Thor, her dark eyes clouded over with some form of disbelief. Thor could see the skepticism, the blinding hatred that his beloved friend and companion held for his adopted brother.

"_Sincerity_, Thor?" She asked, her head shaking a few time before scoffed, "Did you really think you could believe any 'sincerity' Loki claimed to have? He was the one who set the frost giants on Asgard that day. He was the one who tried to take over Asgard _and_ Midgard. Yet, you still defend him? In everything he has done?"

"I do not defend what he has done, Sif. I defend his honour as my brother." It was all he could say, but he knew that there was no way the woman was going to believe him. She was far too blind in her hate to care.

But the Asgardian prince could not fault the warrior woman before him. She was right; Loki had performed many crimes that were unable to be ignored, and he was being rightfully punished for those crimes. Did that mean that Loki was any less important to him? Of course not.

"Lady Sif," he began carefully, his head lowered slightly with thought as his blue eyes carefully trained on her, "I know my brother more than anyone here. Loki was raised among us, and even bled for us. I do not pretend to understand his actions nor do I attempt to understand, but I do know that whatever the reason for doing what he did, he felt justified. I feel it is my duty to understand his justifications. We all make mistakes, but that doesn't mean we cannot learn from them." He turned his head to his right, looking out towards the blazing sunlight that lit up Asgard. "People change. I changed."

For another long moment, there was a silence in which the two stared each other down, almost challenging the other to protest. It was a tense moment, and Thor could feel his muscles tighten in anticipation. Sif's brow was furrowed, her lips pressed together into a thin line.

At last, she dropped her head in surrender.

"Not everyone changes for the better, Thor." She pressed her right arm to her chest, bowing to him, "My Prince."

Swiftly, she took her leave of him, turning her back to him while heading off in the direction of the grounds and leaving the mourning king-to-be to his torturous thoughts.

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_**~To be continued**_

Thank you for reading!  
Please review!


	2. Chapter I: Madness

_Hello everyone! Here is the first chapter. I feel like it compliments the prologue a lot more than just the prologue by itself. This chapter starts to get into more of the characters and starts the development of the story itself, so this is an important piece of the overall story_

_I am quite surprised at the feedback so far, and you guys are helping to motivate me to keep going! Seems like Thor is getting lots of love, and I am very pleased! He is not an easy character for me to write, but I wanted to give him some time to make things right. _

_This chapter does not feature spoilers for the The Dark World, so if you have yet to see the movie (GO DO IT!), not to worry! Eventually some of the Dark World plot will fall into CotT, but we are still a ways off from that. :)_

_So! Without further ado, I present chapter 1!_

_~Aislinn_

_**Disclaimer: I take no credit for any characters in this story that belong solely to marvel, no matter what sort of terrible and cruel liberties I may take with their characters. This is written for my own, personal entertainment and never for profit.**_

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**Chapter I: Madness**

This was it. It had to be. The voices were everywhere, yet nowhere, and yet inside him. He knew he was hearing things; there could possibly be no one else with enough stupidity to join him in eternal darkness. Loki could literally _feel_ his mind slowly (or quickly?) plunge into the depths of insanity.

With a nearly hysterical chuckle, Loki ran a shaking hand through his messy hair. The motion was becoming a small comfort for him, a way for him to feel if he was still in existence or not. He blinked, eyes frantically searching in vain for some new development in his line of sight. He searched, and searched, hoping to see a beacon of hope or light or something, _anything_ that was not just darkness.

After a pause, he laid himself flat onto the ground, hand gripping at the hair closest to his forehead. He was sweating, even though there was nothing but cold all around him. The floor was cold, the air was cold….cold…so cold…

Suddenly, his body temperature dropped, and Loki began to shudder, trembling as it registered the new, freezing condition. Was it in his mind? Did his mind control this ungodly element? Was he making himself teeter between hot and cold merely because he _thought_ to?

"_Loki…."_ A voice called out to him, whispering, haunting…it echoed in the never-ending darkness surrounding him.

His eyes opened, at least he thought they were, and he frantically sat up to search for the source.

"_Looooki…." _It came again; unbidden in his mind, "_How I have waited….Ssssooo….long…._" It came out to him in a hiss, and Loki could have sworn that the voice _slithered_ around him.

His hand, which had been laying on the cold, stone ground, suddenly jerked away as something scaly brushed across it. He yelped, leaping to his feet and blindly backing away from his previous spot. The darkness erupted into a loud, ear splitting hiss, and Loki used both hands to cover his ears.

"Leave me alone!" He screamed out, frantic eyes trying to seek out the source. But he could find nothing to lay his blinded sight on.

Something brushed against his bare foot, sliding around his ankle. He screamed again, trying to leap away from the powerful grip that suddenly crushed his ankle. He fell; face pounding into the stone ground with a crack. Loki was certain he broke something, a hot liquid suddenly oozing down his forehead and into his eyes. He felt dizzy, and his eyes rolled back into his skull, the hissing never ceasing even in his nightmare.

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He was not sure exactly when he came to, the darkness of his mind blending into the darkness of his reality, but he could tell that he was unable to move, his hands and feet bound by…something…_slithering….moving…breathing… _

He had no control over his muscles, and Loki limply dangled wherever he was. He could not tell if he was upright or upside down or laying on his back, but he could not feel anything except a cold, freezing nothingness. His body quaked, shivering and shuddering in fear and cold.

A noise above him alerted his attention, and a small groan escaped the back of his throat. He leaned his head back as best as he could, but there seemed to be something halting his movements. So he stared, upwards at absolutely nothing.

A moment's silence granted him a temporary peace of mind, but when he tried to move and realized his body was immobile; Loki allowed himself a whimper, one he knew no one would ever hear. There was a helplessness he realized he had, and it tore him apart mentally and physically. He wanted it to end…wanted Odin to come back and forgive him already…

No. _That_ was madness speaking. He wanted Odin to _pay_ for what he was doing. With that as his final resolve, Loki let out a mad chuckle, the sound echoing in the darkness around him.

"Come, All-Father! Give me your worst! You hear me!? You old _fool_!" His chuckle turned into mad laughter, and his chest heaved with each quake.

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Her body jerked itself awake from the nightmare, dim light of her apartment light greeting her dark eyes. Jane's breathing was laboured and her heartbeat struggled to find a safe pace to regulate to. There were remnants of her nightmare lingering on her vision, almost like an unwanted aftertaste of bad coffee.

There had been darkness. So much darkness. Jane had felt as if she were swimming in a never ending sea of black and nothingness. She remembered reaching out and trying to find something to hang on to, but the only thing she managed to grasp was slick and scaly. The serpentine feel of whatever that object had been frightened her awake and jolted her violently from her hell.

Jane groaned, rubbing her head in an attempt to stay the headache that threatened to consume her. There had been a voice in her dream. It was somehow familiar though she could not recall ever hearing it before.

"Who are you?" She wondered out loud, her soft voice traveling across the expanse of her messy room. There were piles and stacks of papers and books strewn about her floor and desk; evidence of her stubborn goal.

A goal to reach out to the stars. To take one for herself.

A rustle of wind blew through the open window of her apartment bedroom, brushing some of her loose papers onto the floor messily. With a sigh, Jane slid her feet over the side of her bed and stood up onto unsteady feet.

She felt dizzy; strange. There was something odd about this whole situation. The dream, the wind, the headache...What was the connection?

"Definitely overwork." She convinced herself by talking to herself and running a hand through her messy hair. Life had been playing by slowly for her as of late. Her research had come to a standstill when she failed to utilize a proper amount of matter to create a replica of the energy that had appeared when Thor had first arrived on Earth. Jane needed to be able to produce a vast amount of energy that Midgardians did not use, and doing that had been the biggest challenge of space travel.

A small part of her wanted to give up, to surrender to defeat and try to completely forget about traveling to other realms. Unfortunately, the larger part of Jane that was drawn to the unknown would not allow her to give up her fight. There was something out there waiting for her and calling to her, and Jane Foster needed to answer that call.

A loud knock on her bedroom door forced a startled jump out of her and she stared for a moment at her bedroom door.

"Jane Foster!" That was Darcy's voice, "Time to get up! We have a meeting to get to!"

Oh shit. The meeting. She had completely forgotten.

Jane's body moved quickly as she pulled on random clothing and brushed through her hair.

Darcy stood in her doorway with an expression of amusement and annoyance. "Don't forget makeup! There's going to be lots of guys there and I think it could do you some good to go on a date!"

Jane scoffed and pulled on her shoes, using the action to ignore Darcy's comment. She did not need a date and she certainly did not need to meet guys. There was no necessary or important reason for her to do so and Jane felt that she would be held back from her research if she was tied down by a relationship.

Unless of course that relationship involved a certain blonde haired, blue eyed Asgardian warrior with an uncanny ability to find himself under her vehicle...

"Jane!" Darcy's voice snapped her out of her reverie, "Let's GO."

"Right." Jane nodded once and then followed her assistant out of her apartment.

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The council gathering lasted longer than Thor would have liked. He felt as though he were wasting time sitting here discussing the uprising in the realms rather than being out there fighting those who opposed order.

_Those who opposed order._ Something about that stuck with him, implanting itself firmly in the back of Thor's mind. What was 'order'? What significance did it bear that it was the mould holding together the Nine Realms? Thor was raised on order, to defy chaos and smite down those who would cause it. Chaos was to be feared and loathed, just like the Jotuns of Jotunheim.

Just like Loki.

Loki had dallied in chaos and in the end suffered for it. He was now locked away in the oubliete far beneath the city of Asgard, and would be forever forgotten in darkness. They had condemned Loki to an eternity of nothing, of lonliness.

No. _Odin_ had condemned Loki. Not Thor, never the good brother.

A part of Thor's heart was torn apart in that moment, and he took a sharp inhale of much needed breath he had not realized he had been holding. The sound must have been louder than he initially thought, for the rest of the council turned to gaze upon him.

"Is there a problem, Thor?" His father adressed him, his tone edgy with the burden of war.

All Thor could do was stare at the old man and wonder who he was. Who was this ancient being who was supposed to be revered for his wisdom and power? The only person Thor could see with his blue eyes, was a man lost in the madness that was brought with power. He saw a man who cowed beneath his own regime and forced the laws of order upon those who did not understand it.

_Loki._

Odin was speaking again, but the prince could not comprehend what was being said. He could only hear echoes of words exchanged between he and his once-brother; imagine the exchange of words between Loki and his father...this man who stood as a stranger before him.

"I wish to speak with Loki."

A stunned silence fell throughout the council chambers, all of the standing members turning their confused and shocked gazes upon his thoughtful face.

Thor folded his arms across his chest in contemplation, a powerful desire to see his brother an overwhelming force in his mind and heart. There had to be more to what had happened with Loki, there had to be reason and justification for the things Loki had done.

During all of Loki's trials, none had bothered to ask Loki _why_. None had bothered to ask of the fallen prince how he felt and what drove him to this chaotic end. Instead, Odin had forced upon his adopted son the hand of a king, not the hand of a father, and cursed Loki eternally to Hel.

It was not fair, and Thor would see to it this was righted somehow.

"Have you lost your way, son? Loki is untouchable, and to speak with him now would be to sever the boundaries of his punishment."

"It matters not what you think his punishment should be. The Nine Realms have lost their way, and if you see an opportunity for redemption for the Realms, then you can Loki as well; as my brother." Thor ignored the gasps around him and stood from his seat. His eyes sought out the single eye of Odin All-Father.

There was a challenge behind that steady, firm look, and Thor had no qualms matching it.

"There is but one who can travel the Nine Realms without assistance of Asgardian magic. Loki will in the end be invaluable to all of us if given a chance."

"You forget that Loki can not be trusted."

"I forget nothing, Father. Loki can be trusted when he sees benefit for himself."

"As is the way of those corrupted by chaos. I see no benefit of speaking to Loki. He is lost, you will gain nothing."

"As is the way of those corrupted by power, Father."

Another shocked gasp swept through the chambers, and Odin stood from his seat. "Dismissed."

Everyone took their leave, though not without exchanging glances and wary stares at the deranged God of Thunder.

Did they think him deranged? Was this how Loki felt those times he stood up to Father or stood up to those in higher positions of power? Thor remembered ridiculing Loki for such things before. Perhaps there was a meaning after all.

"Thor. I understand you miss Loki, but Loki Laufeyson is no longer your brother. He has become devoured by power and perverted by his desire to conquer. There is nothing left of Loki Odinson."

"So you think! But you gave not Loki the chance to say what he would in his defense! Instead you jumped to your own conclusions and locked him away. Have you no idea what will become of Loki now? You will not only curse him, but he will tumble and fall into a greater crater than the one he created on Midgard."

Odin was silent a moment, his expression grim and foreboding. "All of which he created himself. He brought all punishment to his own being when he betrayed Asgard."

Thor was not going to listen to this, not for much longer. "Loki fell from his glory when you forced him to lose footing, Father! Were you not the one who lied to him?"

"I tried to protect him from the truth!"

"As you tried to protect me from the truth? By hiding the truth with more lies and terrifying tales of evil Frost Giants? I believe that you have been keeping secrets, Father. I believe you wanted to keep us from Jotunheim, not to protect us, but to keep Loki from discovering the truth."

The All-Father warily sat back into his seat, closing his visible eye and resting his head on his hand. "Thor...you are my son...I would have protected you both from the truth if I could. I _tried_, and I failed."

This argument seemed to be going no where, and Thor wanted to get to the point. Rarely had he ever stood up to his father like this; the King, the All-Father. This was a decree of disobedience that Thor once feared. It was now spurned on and encouraged by his brother's freedom.

"Loki does not need punishment. He needs guidance. A guidance that _you_ failed to give him as a father. I see such things now. I see what we have cultivated and created with our own ignorance. Chaos is not our enemy, Father..._we_ are."

It was suddenly so crystal clear to him. It was not Loki's fault that he fell. Family was supposed to support and love and guide and nurture. Thor was guided and supported as the son of a king. He was nurtured as a healthy, growing warrior loved by both parents and his people. He was the glowing sun of Asgard, the bright star that lit the way for all who came and went.

But what had Loki been to them? He was shied away from their father, pushed absently towards their mother who loved him and cherished him alone. Loki was shunned and humilated by peers and even Thor himself had a few good laughs at the younger prince's expense. Loki was more lean than he was muscle and lacked the proper warrior techniques in battle. He excelled in intelligence and trickery and other dark magics that Odin had warned against.

But never once could Thor remember Loki intentionally turning dark magic onto those he loved. Even in trial, Loki had leaned onto their mother for support, though he never said a word.

Loki lacked the sun and light that Asgard seemed to give Thor unconditionally.

Loki had to _earn_ the respect that Thor was _given_.

Loki sought it out where he felt he could, because Asgard was no longer a part of him.

That was it, wasn't it? That was just it.

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The pain had steadily increased, liquid like venom dripping down his face and leaving trails of a searing burn along the bride of his nose and around his eyes. He could not move; the serpent binding him held him firmly in place. A cold, stone pressed itself against his back despite the heat of his body. Was his body warm? Loki could not tell. Maybe Frost Giants did not get warm.

Loki screamed as another drop of venom slapped his forehead and he struggled to no advail against the snake coiled around his body. It laughed at him, taunted him and called his name. _Loki. Loki. Loki. _Always calling his name. The voice of the serpent came from everywhere and no where at once. It was maddening.

Loki threw back his head and let out a crazed cackle that echoed through the darkness. Coils of scales tightened suffocatingly around his form, but his voice continued to carry on in its mania. He couldn't breathe, but his laughter carried out past the barrier of his chest and throat, blood pounding in his head. He could feel his head swell painfully.

Another drop of poison ceased whatever trail of thoughts were passing through the god's mind, screams breaking that chain of laughter.

In the blinding fury of pain, there was only one thing now part of his thoughts, and Loki clung to it desperately.

He would have his revenge. Odin would pay.

They would all fall. He would watch Asgard burn.

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A gush of cool breeze blew back Jane's dark hair as she and Darcy emerged from the long meeting with the astrophysics professor. The seminar had gone over well but there were gaps and holes that needed filling in and Jane knew only she could do it.

She just refused to.

Jane did not want to be responsible for bringing Otherworldy havoc to an innocent bystander's life. That was probably how it would end, anyway. She would give over information to help Professor Adrian Reyback further his research, and then he would stumble accidently on something he shouldn't have stumbled on. And then it would just go downhill from there.

Jane was a clumsy sort of person, and that was not limited to just her physical form.

Perhaps it was one of the many perks of having been invovled in S.H.I.E.L.D. or with Thor. She had no clue, but she was not going to risk another person getting involved in her mess.

Knowlege was power.

There was a nagging in the back of her mind then. She could feel something pull and tug at her and forcing her to look up into the clear skies. It was that draw again, that overwhelming pull trying to bring her closer to its master.

Who was the master? Who was calling out to her in a desperate attempt to bring her to them?

A hand waved frantically in front of her face. "Uh. Hello? It's going to rain. We should get home." Darcy's annoyance was covered by the remains of her attraction to Dr. Reyback, whose sandy-brown hair and green eyes had been quite stunning on a man of his age. He had to have been middle aged, or maybe a little older, but he looked only fresh out of four years of college.

Jane responded to Darcy with a smile and nod. "Yeah. Let's get some food."

"Only if you buy."

"Not like I have a choice." They both laughed a little despite the crack of thunder that boomed through the campus. Jane's lips pressed together and she held herself tall. She hoped her tactic would help her ignore the burning anger she felt towards a certain Thunder God. Thunder and lightning seemed to remind her of how insignificant she was to the man, how easily forgotten mortals were in the long-lived eyes of gods.

She hated being nothing. She hated being reminded of how small she really was in comparison to the universe.

So then, if Jane was so angry with Thor, why was she still searching for him?

It had taken months for Jane to realize that her desire to search was not merely encouraged by her desire to see Thor. There were other things at play. Something out there _wanted_ her to find it, and so she worked and labored and burdened herself with trying to reach out to this disembodied being.

The Universe was sentient. It was living.

She would be the one to embrace it.

Wouldn't she?

At least, Jane Foster would die trying.

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_**Thank you for reading!**_

_**Please Review!**_


	3. Chapter II: Dance

_This chapter..._

_There are some parts that I was listening to the new Dark World score to, and I recommend listening to these songs while reading parts of this! I have labeled the parts and what song I was listening to while I was writing it. You don't have to, though. :) I will say...Trial of Loki, Loki's Shadows and Lokasenna are just...beautiful...This chapter had me crying though as I was writing it and gave me so many feels. I hope everyone enjoys this one as much as I had writing it!_

_**I want to thank everyone for being so supportive!** Thor is getting a lot of attention it seems, which makes me squee on the inside! He is hard for me to write because he is complex as a character. _

_Here it is! Enjoy, and please review! I read every single one of them! _

_~A_

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Thor or any characters from the Marvel Universe that are being used in this fic, no matter what horrible liberties I may take with them._**

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**Chapter II: Dance****  
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_Cheerful music graced the halls on the eve of the Solstice. There were numerous gatherings and parties for celebration on this night, crowds dancing and laughing in merry enjoyment. A lone figure stood off to the side, watching with envy as his two brothers entertained the masses by storm. He held his arms folded across his chest as he lazily leaned against the wooden wall of the cavern. Asgardian celebrations left nothing to the imagination, even as Thor forced Baldr to spin imaginary tales of glory and honour. _

_Honor that Loki felt neither of the fools deserved. Honour that _they _took from _him_ It had been _Loki_ who had fallen that unruly bilgesnipe. It had been _Loki_ who spared Baldr's life from being crushed beneath the raging paws of the mindless beast. Yet, here they were, jesting at a tale spun so carefully that Loki's name was not even _part_ of it. _

_He was a mere memory in the back of their minds, a shadow object that existed to protect occupants from the heat of the sun and the cold of the rain. Loki's eyes flared with jealousy as wenches threw themselves dotingly upon Asgard's greatest liars. _

_Liars far greater than the God of Lies, himself. _

_But they would never know. No. It would be _forbidden_ for Asgard to know the _truth_ of their self-righteous saviours. _

_Loki was jarred rudely from his thoughts as he felt a hand gently touch his arm. He cast green eyes down upon the perpetrator, softening apologetically at the sight of a lovely young maiden with beautiful brown eyes and red, flowing hair. _

_She bowed her head in apology and scuttled off, her feet shuffling beneath her flowing,green gown._

_He had always liked green, though now he wore the colours of blue and white. When he was a child, his mother would dress him in forest colours, always speaking of how his eyes were illuminated beautifully. He indulged her for a time, but grew bored with the redundancy that the same, constant colours brought him. _

_A loud crack of thunder boomed and shook the hall, shaking Loki from his thoughts once more and he forced his eyes away from the maiden and back to his rowdy brothers. Baldr was making off with a female as Thor wound his massive arm around one of his own. _

_Loki could only shake his head and scoff. They were fools. It was one such thing to take a concubine in the palace of Asgard, but who knew what these ladies of the caverns schemed? Thor and Baldr were so easily blinded by eyes not even attached to their own heads. _

_The trickster chuckled softly to himself, amused at his own joke. He cared not for what they wished to do on this night of celebration. Prince Loki would instead search for his own entertainment elsewhere._

_Slipping away unnoticed by the large mass of people gathered, Loki left the cavern silently and headed back towards the palace. It was not too tiresome of a walk and he figured he could use the stretch after his glorious defeat of the bilgesnipe beast. Oh wait. That was Baldr, wasn't it? Or was it Thor? He couldn't remember. The two of them were so good at their lies that even Loki had trouble keeping up._

_It was always like this._

_Silently, Loki seethed, his anger boiling inside of him. He wished for the comfort of a woman but knew this night he would not find it. The soft and kind touch that only a woman could bring after a hard day's work; the ease of tension following a long night of satiating ecstasy and careful joining of bodies. The warmth he missed. It was always cold lately._

_Perhaps he could pay a visit to his mother, and she would tell him stories and help ease his mind until he was ready for rest? _

_Decided, Loki picked up his pace towards the palace. He no longer thought of his brothers and instead hummed a soft tune of merriment to himself, anxious to seek his mother's company. _

_As he ran long, slender fingers through his short, dark hair Loki heard an odd sort of sound from his right. Immediately he drew a dagger, seeking cover behind the edge of one of the buildings he was passing. He heard it again, trying to place the odd noise. _

_It sounded female. Loki was no brute and expected that other males not acted as such in his presence. _

_Quickly he prepared his dagger prepared it to strike as he rounded the corner. A larger male hovered over a smaller, weeping form and the prince took no time in defending her honour. He made quick work of the male, his dagger buried deep into the back of his prey's skull. A quick, swift death. Silent. _

_With a cry, the maiden moved away from them both with fear in her wide, brown eyes. _

_Loki recognized her. The maiden from the cavern. He reached his non-soiled hand out slowly, carefully, not wanting to alarm the girl. _

_"Please. Are you harmed?" _

_She took a moment to reply. When she did, she bowed deeply at his feet. Her hair fell over his shoulders and her green gown appeared soiled with dirt._

_"My prince! Please forgive me for being in your way. It was no wish of mine to distract thee from your routine, your Majesty." The poor woman sounded panicked, but Loki cared not._

_"Rise," he demanded softly and lowered his body to be able to lift hers more easily. She was so light... "I wish to know the name of thy maiden in which I have but saved on this eve."_

_The girl pushed red hair behind her ear shyly. "Sigyn."_

_And it was perfect. The night fell away as Loki forgot his mother and instead reveled in the soft touches of the woman in green. She was new at love, and he was gentle. He taught her the ways of his bed and learned her of his body and him hers. To Loki Odinson, this night...she was perfect. _

_His Sigyn._

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_**Drip. Drip. Drip.**_

Loki's screams had long died away. His voice was coarse and rough even as he drew breaths and released them. It was becoming more difficult as the seconds ticked by to continue even drawing breaths.

There was no woman here to protect him from his prison; his eternal darkness. No woman here to guide him through this time of desperation and self depletion.

How he wished that his end was nigh; that such pain would be drowned in his bittersweet sorrow.

A manic laugh suddenly escaped his throat, wracking his body in odd quakes. _Bittersweet sorrow_. It was not bittersweet _sorrow_ he was consumed with. It was _hatred_.

_Anger_.

Loki's body seethed on fire with a new burn that started in his core and ripped and lashed its way out of his beaten form. It fought its way through the haze of delirium that had forced the God of Mischief into immobility and insanity.

But the pain. Gods the pain.

The venom must have eaten away his face, leaving bone and rotten flesh and oozing acid and blood. He felt the heat of the fluids as it ran down his face and heard the _drip_ as it fell.

But still, even still...ever so desperately...Loki clung to his redemption; _danced_ with it maniacally.

Revenge.

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Thor threw Mjolnir angrily at his enemy. They should not have been able to even reach these borders without some form of Bifrost. He knew for a fact it could not have been Loki as his brother rotted away in the oubliette, so Thor was left wondering how the Hel a Frost Giant could have breached the protected borders of Asgard once again.

Heimdall had seen him enter so it was not as though the Jotun had been hidden, but the whole situation left an odd and chilling tingle down his spine. There was a coldness on the wind that appeared to foretell a grueling and difficult future.

Heimdall approached Thor's side on the edge of the Bifrost, mighty sword held firmly in his massive hands.

"My Prince," he began, "We must do something about the rise in rebellion against the great of Asgard. If we do not, then we will risk a great deal more than a single life."

"I understand this."

Heimdall remained quiet for a moment, eyes searching and seeking beyond the shining glimmer of stars and through the barrier of realms. "If it eases your soul, my Prince, then you should know your mortal is..." His brows furrowed then, eyes narrowing with a stress that Thor could not understand.

"What is it? Is she harmed?"

"No. But she is...troubled."

"Troubled?" This confused him.

The Gatekeeper nodded only once. "She can not sleep easy these nights. Lately she has been plagued by dreams."

Thor frowned, his own blonde brows creasing with worry. "Should I go to her?"

"You should do nothing that will put the Realms at risk," a smirk crept onto stoic features, "but you will do as you please."

Thor smirked. Of course he would. He could go now and retrieve her. He could leave Asgard and meet her on her tiny Realm. He would then kiss her and tell her he wanted her to come back with him. They could be together then.

"Now is not the time to bring Jane Foster to Asgard." It was a difficult decision for him to make, but it eased his heart and soul to know she would be safer on Midgard away from the darkening forces surrounding his home. War was on the horizon, the Realms plagued by miscreants and dangers that which a human could never defend herself from alone.

He had thought many times of bringing her back with him; of showing her his world and showering her with his affections. But for some reason, he knew Jane Foster was different than most females he had been with. She was not a wench or concubine to be glorified in his arms. She was stronger than that; she who taught him the meaning of true honour and courage.

The God of Thunder wished he could be her courage right now. Dreams that plagued in the night were frightening. Loki had once been ailed with terrors for years after Baldr's death, and their mother had been the only one who could ease his pain. Thor had never felt more helpless and useless in all his long, life.

Thor hoped Jane Foster of Midgard would fare better than Loki had against them.

"Heimdall...you know it is not Jane Foster I wish you to look upon this moment." His steel blue gaze caught sight of the dead Jotun body on the edge of the Bifrost at his feet. The giant's blood seeped from his form, staining the Rainbow Bridge unforgivably.

Did his brother bleed like this? A dark red-black so different than the vibrancy of roses.

What was he thinking? Comparing blood to roses? There was nothing to compare.

Thor remembered Loki once loved flowers. His little brother had said something childishly poetic in their youth, of flowers being gentle creatures easily killed but eternal in life for they reborn each fresh year.

Or something like that...Thor could not remember their youth well. He was blinded by his own childish selfishness and conceited mannerisms that the prince had all but forgotten Loki's importance during their youngest years.

Loki, who was always there for them even when he could have fled.

Loki, who always made sure that none of his companions nor himself were mortally harmed during battle, even if it was one of Thor's silly ideas in the first place.

Loki, who Thor himself cast down into the forgotten holes beneath Asgard's Palace.

_What have I done to you?_

"He will not be able to remain where he is much longer, my Prince," the deep baritone of the Gatekeeper shook Thor from his thoughts, "I know you seek to free him. But do so before madness conquers what remains of the Loki you seek to redeem."

A fear gripped Thor's heart and he had to resist the urge to grip his chest. At last, with a single curt nod, Thor threw Mjolnir into the air and took off back towards the Palace.

He would see to it that Loki was freed.

He would pay for his crimes without losing his mind.

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A draft of cool air forcefully shoved the vehicle she was driving off to the side, and Jane had to roughly jerk the wheel back to move back into place properly between her lanes. The wind speed was unforgiving today with dark clouds quickly moving in from the North. It looked as if it were going to storm something fierce, and Jane mourned the fact that she did not remember to bring an umbrella or rain jacket.

Boy was she going to get wet.

But Darcy was too, so she felt a little better.

Darcy groaned in the seat beside her, obviously thinking along the same lines as she was. "You know," she began, and Jane dreaded the words that were about to come out of her mouth, "it's a shame that the only thing this storm's gonna bring is rain. I mean, it sucks that a nice, hot guy won't drop out of the sky with this one."

Thunder clashed violently and a sudden and heavy downpour of rain was upon them. Jane had difficulties seeing the road in front of her, but her frustration with Darcy knew no bounds.

Jane groaned loudly. "Darcy, can we please just STOP?" She raged, turning on her wipers and lights. The wipers did no good, the pour of water too fast and heavy for even the car's arms to wipe a visible path in the window. "I mean, I get that you get that I had a thing for him, but seriously! There needs to come a point where this stupid banter-"

Suddenly, there was a crash of thunder and a flurry of movement as Darcy leaned forward shouting. Everything was a blur as it happened. Jane had no idea what was taking place around them. Their car tipped, pulled over by something big and dark that Jane could not make heads or tails of as she was thrown upside down.

Everything went dark.

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**(The Trial of Loki)**

_"Are you not coming, brother?" Baldr's voice; sweet and musical, was like poison in his ears. Had the lad not taunted his elder enough on this day? He had not the patience for this._

_"For the last time, Baldr, _no_ I will _not_ be joining you and Thor. My wife and I have other things to attend to." Loki folded his arms across his chest as he held back the tired sigh. Baldr was so full of energy that he did not feel as if he could keep up._

_And he, Loki, was so young himself; being only at his three hundredth birthday._

_"Thou art whipped!" The boy let out a hearty laugh, "That wife and child of yours is bound to do you no good! Come join the men in honour and victory!"_

_The hairs on the back of his neck and arms stood up and it took Loki everything he had to keep from shivering. "Hold that tongue of yours brother or I may just slice it off and feed it to my family for such disgrace." If he were honest with himself, he spoke only in jest. _

_Because despite everything, he _loved_ Baldr._

_The responding laugh was light-hearted and warm, filling Loki's young heart with joy and pride. "Loki," such a warm smile, "I wish to be half the man you are, brother. I fear that I shall not ever be the husband my wife deserves."_

_It was Loki's turn to laugh. "And here they call _ME_ the God of Lies!" The price approached his brother, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You are but a fine man, Baldr. Do not have doubt in yourself."_

_A blush crept up onto Baldr's lovely skin and he cast his blue eyes towards the ground, "Thank you."_

_Loki could not help but smile down at the lad and be proud to call him brother._

The cold should have made him shiver but he took comfort in the heat of the poison that dripped down his face. The morbidity and heat of it seemed to warm every inch of him.

Or he was just going mad. The light proved such madness. The blinding and intense light that suddenly hit him full on that he shut his eyes tightly and waited for death to come.

Or death. Light represented death too.

This was it. It _must_ be.

A voice as bright as the golden shimmer of light was calling out to him.

_"Loki!" _

"Baldr?" Loki called back, trying to reach out to where the voice was coming from but could no longer will his body to struggle against the vice of the serpent which bound him.

"Loki!" Hands were on him, tugging gently and lifting.

He was free.

"Loki!" That voice...it wasn't Baldr's...Sounded nothing like his bright younger brother.

No...Baldr was dead.

"T-Thor?" Loki's own voice shook with an uncertainty he had not felt in many long years. Suddenly, the weight of his life seemed heavier than it had ever been. "Am I dead, Thor?" He cried out desperately, body limp, "Am I dead?"

There was no response, or if there was, then Loki was no longer aware of it. He felt light. He was free of the binds of the snake.

The pain was gone. There was nothing left in his broken body. Not a movement nor soul.

He thought he said something...what was it? '_I'm sorry'_? Was that what he whispered out desperately? Loki did not know. Darkness was most important now.

After all...he danced with Darkness, did he not?

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**(Shadows of Loki 00:-:54)**

_His wife was important to him. She was so beautiful in her green gown as she held their young to her breast and spoke soft nothings to the babe in hopes to soothe their Nari from whatever had plagued him. Only mothers had this wonderful ability to communicate with their young._

_Well...Loki did too...but he much preferred to watch his wife have purpose. _

_She called to him, and he went without argument. He made jest with her a little, and laughed as she slapped him lightly on the arm. _

_Her pale skin blended with his white tunic and Loki could not help but think that his wife was a part of him. _

_Little Nari cried then, and Loki took the babe from his mother gently to cradle his son against himself. He smiled at his wife, then turned to walk away with his son. _Their_ son. How he longed for more moments such as this: these small and peaceful moments he got with his family. He would abandon Thor and Baldr more if this was the reward._

_As the God of Mischief loved to reap in rewards. _

_This god could have wanted for nothing more._

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**(Shadows of Loki cont. at about :54-end)**

_He had not meant for this to happen. It should not have happened. Not like this._

_Surely it was a joke being played upon them all._

_How cruel were the fates to have cast this shadow upon the great light of Asgard, the mightiest of the Nine Realms?_

_Green eyes gazed upon the weeping queen Frigga, ashamed and fearful and oh-so-full of sorrow and despair. Odin stood beside his wife, face impassive and cold._

_Beautiful and foreboding lights fluttered upwards towards the unending sea of the Universe. _

_Loki pulled his own wife closer to him, cradling her and their young._

_Then there was Thor...sunny and happy Thor...yet where was that smile Loki had come to rely so desperately on in times such as this?_

_Baldr was dead._

_It was his fault._

_Loki felt a piece of him numb somewhere deep inside him. He wondered if his family would mourn this way for him._

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**(Lokasenna)**

_Loki ran quickly back to his chambers. His lungs burned with exhaustion from his sprint._

_He had to get back to them before they did._

_It seemed forever before he arrived upon his bedchamber door there was no sound from within. A fear gripped him in a binding vice of a grip. It forbid his lungs from taking in air while he pushed the large doors open and desperately searched his quarters for his family._

_He found no one._

_There was no cry from his precious Nari nor the soft hum of his beautiful wife._

_There was only an empty chamber with a small, red puddle in the center of his floor._

_Loki was too late. He would never hold her again. They would never relish the sound of their laughing babe or take comfort in the peaceful safety of each others arms._

_Odin had already cast the hand of judgement upon his family as repent for his hand in the death of Asgard's beloved and youngest prince._

_The widower fell to his knees into the pool of blood and memories. Laughter and soft touches and secret, almost forbidden exchanges filled a vision in which his blurred eyes refused to allow him ease to. _

_A shaky breath somehow released itself from his tight throat. _

_Red stained the white of his tunic. No longer did his beautiful wife blend with him. The red was too stark of a contrast to the white, pale memory of her. It burned his vision, forever imprinting itself to his memory._

_He figured he would have to pick a new colour...one that would forever be known as his...would remind Asgard of what they did. _

_Green was a nice colour, wasn't it? It illuminated his eyes...didn't it?_

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**_Thank you for reading! _**

**_Please review!_**

IMPORTANT NOTE:_ There is a large time gap between Loki's interaction with Baldr and Baldr's funeral. That scene takes place months before the funeral. Just in case it seems out of place or anyone gets confused! All will be revealed in time. _


	4. Chapter III: Awakening

_Hello lovelies! Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate! I apologize for taking so long with this update! I want to thank everyone for your reviews! They mean a great deal to me, and I read all of them! Please keep them coming, for they do help inspire parts of plot!_

_I want to assure everyone right now though, that this is **not** a reincarnation fic! I'm not personally fond of them, and I don't intend on making this one. Jane is Jane, no one else. :) For this story, Loki's relationship with Sigyn is important for the politics more than for the romance. For this story, we are assuming that Loki is around 1000 Asgardian years old in age. He married around his 300th years, so there was a lot of time for his heart to mourn her death and heal a little._

_Now! Enough drabbles! Onto the story!_

**_Disclaimer: All characters in relation to the Marvel Universe are property of Marvel and Marvel only, no matter what horrible things I may do to the characters. _**

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**Chapter III: Awakening**

It was wet. Too wet. Jane pulled herself slowly from the depths of unconsciousness and back to reality. It was a grueling process that required a lot of effort on her part to simply open her eyes. The disorientation was dizzying. What was up and down was entirely too confusing in her mind. What happened? Had they hit another vehicle?

"Darcy?" Her voice was rough and shaky. After a moment of no response, Jane looked over at her friend and assistant.

Hair hung limply above her head, glasses skewed and crooked on her face. Darcy's hat had fallen off sometime during the impact. They were hanging, the car flipped over onto its hood on wet pavement. The windows had been crushed in and glass lay around them in little and large chunks. Darcy's door had been ripped off.

"Darcy!" Jane called out again, voice louder this time and she struggled to unclasp her seat belt. It was jammed, and no matter how much she fumbled her fingers could not un-click the safety device. "Darcy! Wake up!"

The unconscious girl stirred, the lifted a hand to her head. "Ugh. I feel like I drank too much."

"We have to get out of here!" The distinctive smell of gasoline reached her nose and it caused a dreadful panic to rise. "We have to get out!"

Darcy's awareness sort of came to at that moment, and she looked around at the circumstance for the first time. When the realization dawned on her what had happened, the girl quickly moved to undo her own seat belt.

Jane watched as her assistant fell from her seat onto the hood, head and neck in an odd position from the landing. She tried again to free herself, but to no avail.

"Darcy, I'm stuck!"

"Hang on!" She looked over and tried to help, but the familiar click did not resound in the loud cracking of the thunderstorm.

"Go! Just go get help!"

Where were all the people? Weren't they just on a highway full of cars and traffic? Should the cops not be arriving by now?

"Uh...Jane?"

Jane looked over at Darcy, whose lips had pressed together and then fell open slightly with shock.

"Don't look now. But I think we may be on fire."

It was as if her nightmares were coming true. Panic renewed, she struggled again as Darcy crawled her way out of the car. "Go get help!" She could only catch a glimpse of Darcy's feet from the upturned car. They started moving away, running at full speed before they came to a sudden halt. Jane frowned, wondering what the hell Darcy was doing as she saw the girl turn and stare in her direction. "Darcy!?"

"Um. You're not going to be believe this! I found help!"

What? What the hell was she prattling on about now? "Darcy! The car is on FIRE! I NEED OUT OF-"

Suddenly, two, large hands entered her vision, and then massive arms were reaching and tugging at straps.

"Jane!"

That voice. That voice she had longed to hear for so long. His deep baritone sent a familiar shiver through her body along with a warmth she had not felt since the last time she saw him.

Thor's face was there, a strong look of concern etched onto his features as he caught Jane from her seat and easily tugged her from the driver's side of the car. He picked her up and she wrapped her arms around his neck to keep her balance and hold her weight, though he seemed to not have any problems carrying her away from the wreckage. Rain poured around them, but never touching the two of them.

Was that Thor doing that? Controlling the fall of the rain?

Once they reached Darcy he at last set her down, his powerful and massive arms as gentle as they could be with her. Jane's legs were shaking and trembling but her eyes would not leave Thor's handsome face.

She slapped him.

And gods did it feel good. "I'm sorry." She said, though only partially meaning it.

Thor gave her an understanding gaze. "It is alright. Jane-"

Her hand connected with his face again. "Where were you?"

"Are you harmed?" He countered and she couldn't help but appreciate his deflection. His _selfless_ deflection. "Heimdall could not see you, and then he saw that you were in danger. I rushed here at once."

"I don't know what happened..." She looked around, eyeing the accident and taking in the details of the damage. The black Sudan was totaled. It was turned over on its hood, windows gone and strewn about the highway. Darcy's door was missing. How the hell did they even survive that? What caused it?

_Where the hell was everyone?_

"Has anyone else noticed that there is absolutely _no one_ on the major freeway?"

Thank you, _Darcy_. "We were just driving," Jane tried to explain to Thor, "but then suddenly we were flipped."

Thor nodded. "You tend to hit things when you are the one in control. You should perhaps cease piloting these horses." A small hint of amusement had seeped into his tone of voice. He was trying to make light of the situation a little, but there was a tenseness in his body that Jane could not help but take note of. Something was wrong with him.

"Uh. I agree."

She studiously ignored Darcy.

"Jane," the concern in Thor's voice was thick, "you are injured." His hand lifted her her face, wiping at it tenderly.

Blood decorated the tips of his fingers when he pulled them away. There was a strange look on Thor's face as he looked down at her.

"I'm sorry...I could not protect you."

"I have no idea what you are talking about," her admittance was laced with confusion.

He looked ready to say something again, his lips parted when Darcy's voice cut through.

"Hey! I think you're gonna wanna check this out!"

Both of their heads turned to see what the girl was looking at. Jane gaped.

There was a massive crater in the center of the highway; Jane had no idea how the hell they could have missed it moments ago. It split the road and earth itself in half, traveling down for what looked liked miles into darkness.

She tugged herself out of Thor's grasp and hurried over past the wreckage to where her assistant was standing, gazing over the edge of the crevice. It was huge, massive even and resembled a nuclear test explosion.

"What is it?" Awe was laced through Jane's tone, her brown eyes focused intently on what was below.

Thor was next to her then, one hand wrapped around her upper arm to keep her from getting too close. "Be wary, Jane."

"I am." She tugged away from him and she could feel his reluctance to let her go. Before she could get further, Darcy had already tossed something into the depths of darkness. Jane whipped her head to the side to stare incredulously at the crazy woman. "Are you crazy?" She demanded, mouth dropping.

Darcy shrugged her shoulders, grinning. "Don't tell me you didn't want to do that either."

Jane rolled her eyes, turning to step away from the gaping hole. Before she could reach Thor again, something slid around both her wrists, burning the skin there and yanking her back. From somewhere, she heard Thor's shocked cry of fear. There was no time to search for his face as the force of the tendrils pulled her towards the edge of the abyss.

As she fell, she watched with horror while the grey light of the skies above became nothing but darkness.

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_Thor immediately took Loki to Eir, quickly maneuvering though the corridors of the large palace. He hated how the oubliette was so far beneath the surface. It was taking Thor much longer than he would have liked to reach his destination._

_Eir was surprised by his sudden appearance in her wing, but instructed him to lay Loki down on one of the empty cots so she could begin her diagnosis of him._

_Physically, the younger prince appeared to be alright, despite the blood that had dried and caked to the back of his head. Eir deduced that he must have fallen at some point, though Loki's wound was healed and she could not tell how long it had been since. Any injury now was superficial._

_Thor watched as Loki was cleaned and dressed in fresh linen suitable for one of Eir's patients, and then left after assuring that Loki would be safe in the elder healer's care. Frigga was on her way to tend to her lost son, and Thor knew then that Loki would be in good hands. He wanted no chances that Loki would be taken advantaged of whilst he slumbered for he was now needed elsewhere. _

_The warrior was hesitant to leave his brother's side, but Heimdall had alerted him that Midgard was being targeted by a group of miscreants. Immediately, his mind went to Jane Foster, and Thor hurried to her side. _

_Was she alright?_

_Thor knew that he would have to visit her now, have to make sure that his woman was safe. _

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It felt as if the whole world were floating around him...or was it _he_ who was floating?

Loki's brain was muddled, and dragging thoughts to the forefront of his mind was just as difficult as trudging through a muddy marsh clad in iron or steel armour. It was time consuming and difficult to move his thoughts around and when he did, they felt sticky. It was overall a rather gross feeling.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, testing one and then the other against the sudden bright light that threatened to override his senses. It was too bright at first, but after a few moments of adjustment Loki was able to win the battle against blinding pain.

_How dramatic._ He thought sarcastically, thinking he was being a little bit over exaggerating about the situation. Couldn't he just open his eyes and be done with it? Momentary blindness would be momentary, after all. Was there really a need for such uncalled for measures that could potentially be considered a cry for attention?

But...attention from what? It wasn't like there was anyone around in this...dark..

Wait. _Blinding light_. This meant he was no longer trapped by the darkness of the oubliette. Was he perhaps dead? Maybe he was, given that he was condemned to rot forever in the Hells of his prison.

In a flash, all of his memories came back to him: the loneliness, the serpent, the _pain_.

His hands were immediately drawn to his face, feeling out any flaws that could have been there from the venom that had dripped from the serpent's teeth.

Had there been teeth? _He_ certainly had not seen any. Then again, he had not seen _anything_.

He had to be dead.

"Loki?" A soft, familiar voice alerted him to a presence beside him, and he opened his eyes quickly to stare in shock at the woman.

"M-mother?" His voice was raspy, strained. It was as if he had swallowed glass and his throat now ground the sharp pieces to sand. The word left his lips on instinct more than anything else...this woman...she could not be his mother anymore.

Frigga smiled softly at him, a hand rising to brush some stray hair out of his face. Her eyes were glassy, and dark circles lined them. The exhaustion did not do her justice. "You are safe now."

Were those words he sincerely needed to hear? Why did she say them?

"We have missed you..."

"Save your sentiment for someone who cares for it." He tried to push himself up, and was glad when he succeeded. His arms held his weight well, which meant that he was recovering well. His body should have regenerated when he was still imprisoned, but for some reason it had not. Perhaps his body reacted to his mind, which had all but shut down during the horrors he had been subject to.

It was certainly a subject he would have to ponder on in the near future. But for now...

"Please don't. Not now. Give me a moment to relish the fact I can hold you now."

What a remarkable woman. And stupid.

But that couldn't be the truth...Frigga was far from stupid...

Loki pressed his lips together and stared down at the hands that lay in his lap. At some point, Frigga had grasped one of them and was now rubbing gentle circles on his skin.

Gods he had gotten so pale...

"You should eat," her voice was whimsical as always, even if it was darkened by her current emotions, "You are so malnourished. I can not bear to see you this way, my son."

_Her_ _son_. "I am not your son. I never was."

"You say that, but do you truly believe that?"

"I _know_ it." The prospect that he ever thought the barbarian king _was_ ever his father was now a preposterous notion that he gladly spat on. When there was no response for a few long moments, Loki chanced a glance at the queen, seeing if she was still there.

She was. And she was staring at him with a knowing look on her face. She almost looked amused if her lips were not furrowed so deeply in a frown.

Loki sighed, frowning deeper himself and looking back down to his hands. He was so quick to condemn the man who condemned _him_, but could he really do the same to this woman? The woman who supported him when he took the throne however long ago? The woman who raised him and loved him when Odin was off raising and loving his _real_ son...

"Always so perceptive about everyone but yourself..."

Her words were almost heartbreaking. And dammit all...Loki felt _regret_.

He wanted to apologize, to tell her he was sorry. He wanted to yell at her for allowing her husband to have such control over taking her away from him. He wanted to kill everyone who stood in his way from here forth.

"What happened? How is it that I lay here now when the last I was awake I was trapped forever beneath the bowels of Asgard, forgotten by all who lived their lives above me. How is it that you sit beside me now..." he looked around to figure out where he was, "In the healing ward?"

Frigga...his _mother_, he decided to keep in his head...smiled a small smile for him. "Thor could not bear to cast you out so coldly. The things you have done were monstrous things, but they do not make you a monster. Thor defied Odin and retrieved you from your prison. You were brought here so that the healers could tend to you in private."

He was willing to bet what remained of his forsaken life that this woman had sat by his bed since he was first brought forth to Eir. How long had that been? His questions must have been written as clear as day on his face, for his mother responded to them without his inquiry.

"You have been unconscious for two days."

Ah.

"And my imprisonment? How long have I served a sentence?"

Frigga was silent for a long moment, and it put Loki at unease. Her brows were furrowed into a hard line, her eyes cast down a little and her hand tightened slightly around his fingers. She was upset, that much was clear.

"Two years."

The only response Loki could muster was a laugh, a ridiculous laugh that echoed through the empty chambers of Eir's private healing ward. "Really? Well! So much for eternity, huh?!" Loki knew his response was a little delirious, but that did not stop him from letting out another laugh. He could tell his mother was ruffled by his response.

"Two years was a long time for _me_, Loki."

"It feels like only yesterday for _me_, _Mother_." He lifted his arms to exaggerate the space around him. It was a lie, and a terrible one, but that did not matter. It felt like ages. Ages and ages of never ending torture and suffering and emptiness as he lay forgotten in Asgard's very own Underworld. No. What mattered was that he _was_ in that darkness for two years. It mattered that he literally _was_ forgotten.

_It matters now. They will all pay. _Odin_ will pay._

The vow he had made to himself was his mantra, his prayer of redemption. It survived him as he suffered those terrible two years alone, and it survived him now, as his mother watched him with sad and worried eyes. He did not want her to worry, so he reached out and held her hand to his lips, kissing the fingers gently.

Something dark turned within him.

"I'm home now, Mother."

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